It was some years ago that I realised I had reached the stage of my life in which I was supposed to be wise. However, I did not feel wise so decided to make it my business to find out what this state of being was all about and how I could acquire it…

One evening after we’d been living at The Terraces for a few weeks, my husband looked around the dining room and said, “These people are all old. How do you feel about it?”

Do you feel like you keep starting over with the same goals? About this time every winter I realize that I have already given up on many of the things that I wanted to change about myself in the new year. About two weeks in! Can you believe it? Read More

“I feel invisible because of my age,” is a leading thought in the minds of many women of a certain age.

I did not say a specific age, nor did I say all women are faced with this dilemma. After all, these feelings depend on the woman. But I will say this, more women than not, as they age, feel invisible. Read More

The rice paddies that stretch out from the house are flooded now, reflecting the sky with big puff-ball clouds that turn pink, then orange, then white as the morning sun rises. Read More

The new year often brings with it an overabundance of hopeful resolutions, lofty goals, and well-intentioned promises to live better, eat healthier, and improve various aspects of oneself and one’s life…

Almost always, when we reach the other side of a difficult time, there’s a place we rest and say, “Whew, glad that’s over.” It might be a divorce, a battle with the IRS, a year of financial torture or intense grief…

Recently one morning, I opened a word-for-the-day type of email. The word for that day was ‘metanoia’, a noun defined as a transformative change of heart; especially a spiritual conversion…

You imagine ahead to your traditional dinner: you know what you will be eating, you know who you will be celebrating with, you know where you will be – but suddenly your heart drops. This year there will be an empty chair round that table. Read More

Jill was in the kitchen, right in the middle of making cookies. I’d been at their house for about a week, which is typical around Christmas, when I spend my annual two weeks at their home in Eastern Washington. Read More